To others, he is the epitome of happiness.
Misery is unfamiliar to him,
they believe.
Oh, how wrong they are.
The boy's heart and soul
are a thousand shattered fragments;
a thousand scattered fragments.
The sun shines bright,
but his world is dark.
He is like a crumbling fort,
And there is pain in his eyes
behind that mesmerising spark.
He stands tall; arms and heart welcoming broken beings
he wants to save,
But as he diminishes further
into gloom,
He realises that to rescue himself,
it is far too late.
To others, he is the epitome of happiness.
Sorrow is a stranger to him,
they believe.
Oh, how terribly mistaken they are.
Woe and desolation stay etched
deep within the boy's being—
In every shattered fragment,
in every scattered fragment.
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Alone | Poetry
PoetrySometimes, you're the loneliest when you're in a room full people. Sometimes, you hurt the most when you can't feel. Loneliness kills.
